


Let it Snow

by Courtney621



Category: AUSTEN Jane - Works, Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
Genre: F/M, i am darcy and darcy is me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:14:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28477485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Courtney621/pseuds/Courtney621
Summary: Elizabeth takes a long winter walk with a somewhat reluctant Darcy.
Relationships: Elizabeth Bennet/Fitzwilliam Darcy
Comments: 19
Kudos: 177





	Let it Snow

A storm had blown through Derbyshire overnight and Pemberley was covered in a blanket of snow. The stream had frozen over, the branches of the trees were shiny with frost, and everything seemed to shimmer in the soft morning light. There was something magical about the scene, as though they had been dropped suddenly into the middle of a fairy tale. Elizabeth was delighted.

“Oh, how beautiful it looks!” she said, admiring the view from the drawing room window. “I should dearly love to walk the grounds today.”

She glanced over her shoulder at her husband, smiling with eager anticipation.

“If you wish it,” said Fitzwilliam reluctantly, “though I would much rather stay inside.”

Elizabeth turned to look at him, surprised. She had grown accustomed to his readily agreeing to whatever she asked for.

“My brother does not like winter,” Georgiana whispered to her. “He hates the cold.”

Fitzwilliam shot Georgiana a look of stunned betrayal as she and Elizabeth giggled.

“I did not realize that he was so delicate,” Elizabeth whispered back. 

This produced exactly the reaction she was hoping for.

“Of course we will go for your walk, Elizabeth,” Fitzwilliam said defiantly, standing up and beckoning her over. “I do not mind a little snow.”

“ _He does_ ,” said Georgiana, her eyes sparkling with mirth. For a young lady who had been so initially shocked by Elizabeth’s teasing of her brother, Georgiana had become quite fond of it herself, a development that Elizabeth found endlessly diverting. 

“You will notice,” said Fitzwilliam, pointedly directing a rather sardonic look at his sister, “that Georgiana does not join us, for she prefers to spend the winter months indoors.”

“Indeed,” Georgiana concurred, “I will be much more comfortable where I am.”

Elizabeth knew that her husband was too proud to back down from this goading now, despite the suffering that was clearly in store for him, and bit back her laugh at his indignant expression.

“Let us dress and set out then, Elizabeth,” he said, walking swiftly to the door. “I do hope you will enjoy the fire, Georgiana.”

“I intend to,” she called as he disappeared into the passage.

Fitzwilliam gave a disgruntled sort of huff as Elizabeth hurried to catch up with him.

***

They bundled up appropriately and began their walk. Elizabeth was thrilled to be out of doors, seeing all of Pemberley’s snow-covered charm up close, and feeling quite warm and happy herself. With a sigh of contentment, she linked arms with her husband. She could feel that he was already shivering slightly.

“Thank you for obliging me,” she said, leaning her head against his shoulder.

“I would bear much greater than this for your sake, Elizabeth,” he said.

It had started to snow gently as he spoke, and he looked up at the sky darkly.

“We will not stay out overlong,” she assured him, “just for the time it takes to see which is your favorite view of Pemberley in the winter. I know you must have one, and I should like to visit it.”

She had strongly suspected that this spot would be one that did not require an extensive journey, one that was an easy distance from the house, but he led her beyond it and into the woods. They walked for some time, their labored breath like puffs of smoke, but Fitzwilliam trudged a path that seemed well-worn and familiar to him. The snow was crisp beneath their feet and the chill in the air felt invigorating to Elizabeth. She glanced up at her husband's face to see how he was faring. His expression was rather fixed, but it softened when he felt her gaze.

“We are nearly there,” he said.

“You need not worry about me,” she replied. She was enjoying herself immensely.

They walked still further, Fitzwilliam treading gamely onward, though the stiff set of his shoulders betrayed his discomfort. She felt a stab of guilt and took pity on him.

“You are freezing, Fitzwilliam,” said Elizabeth. “Let us return to the house.”

“No,” he said firmly. “You wished for a walk in the snow, and a walk in the snow you will have.”

“We can walk another day,” she insisted. “You can take me wherever we are going when it is warmer.”

“It will be better worth seeing in the snow,” he argued back. “The cold will not kill me.”

“It seems like it might.”

“I am quite well, Elizabeth, and there is no point in turning around now.”

“You are a very obstinate man, Fitzwilliam.”

He laughed. "Just a bit further to go."

To Elizabeth’s mind, their eventual destination hardly mattered; getting there was, thus far, greatly to her liking. She had still seen very little of her new home’s environs, and everything was fresh and splendid to her. 

They crossed a small stone bridge, Fitzwilliam holding on to her very tightly so that she would not slip, and found themselves in a little thicket.

“There,” he said, gesturing around them. “The finest scene Pemberley has to offer in the winter.”

Elizabeth’s breath caught as she took it in. It was a beautiful day despite the piercing cold, their whole world a charming wintry white. The sunlight reflected off of the icy surface of the stream and made the frost on the trees sparkle. The snow was so dazzlingly bright that it seemed to glimmer, and it was quiet, almost reverentially so, as snowflakes fell softly and lightly around them. Elizabeth was enchanted. She did not know that she had ever seen a place look so sweet and idyllic.

She twirled on the spot, her face upturned and her arms outstretched, full of such a childlike joy that she thought she might burst. Fitzwilliam looked miserably cold, his shoulders hunched around his ears and his arms crossed tightly on his chest, but he watched her tenderly, his grimace melting into a smile.

“I wonder how you discovered so beautiful a place, as hateful as you find this weather," Elizabeth cried, laughing as a shower of snow fell from a branch and missed her by inches.

“I often walked here with my father,” he said. “He was always fondest of Pemberley in the winter.”

“And is not this view worth braving the cold for?” she asked.

“Indeed,” he said, his jaw clenched to keep his teeth from chattering, and he winced as a gust of wind swirled snow into his face. It blew the hat from his head and he rushed to retrieve it, muttering something under his breath as he returned to her. 

“I know you are lying to me, Fitzwilliam,” she said with amusement, taking his hat from him and shaking the snow from it. 

“It is worth seeing how happy it makes you,” he amended. The tips of his ears and nose were very red, and his eyes were watering in the chilly air.

“Let us turn back now,” said Elizabeth smilingly, standing on tiptoe to brush the snowflakes out of his dark curls. She placed the hat back on his head and kissed his cheek. “I have had enough walking for one day, and my skirts are quite soaked through.”

His relief was palpable as they strode towards Pemberley.

“Do you think we might walk a bit faster?” he asked, already quickening his pace. 

Elizabeth laughed and skipped out in front of him. “Come, Fitzwilliam. I will race you back.”


End file.
